


The Altar

by localsportsteam



Category: Anastasia (1997), Anastasia - Fandom, Anastasia - Flaherty/Ahrens/McNally, Anastasia Musical, Broadway - Fandom
Genre: A Chase Across A Continent, Action, Drama, F/M, Romance, anya and dimitri are in LUV, but also...if i write this right...at some point u will cry, but dimitri...dimitri is REALLY in love, lads they've got BANTER
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-05
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-05-02 15:28:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14547771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/localsportsteam/pseuds/localsportsteam
Summary: With her wit, spirit, and tenacity, Anastasia was always her grandmother’s favorite, as well as Dimitri’s. But someone else saw value in her for another reason entirely - General Gleb Vaganov realizes he gave up his golden ticket in letting Anya go, and as situations in Russia become more dire, he needs to capture her in order to present a rallying point for the communist nation to rise to. Set three years after the conclusion.





	1. Southern France

With great determination, Anya had run to her past, meeting it with open arms. It connected with her present for only a moment, in the embrace of her grandmother and the placement of a crown upon her head. Again, she was Anastasia, and while the Russia she was young in was far past gone, everything for a moment, just a moment, was right.

And then that moment ended. 

Anastasia mulled over what felt wrong that evening she was returned to her grandmother. But that depth was missing, and that was how she so easily found herself back in the arms of Dimitri, calling herself Anya, and running to the south of France with considerable financial support from her grandmother and dreams of a world wide open. 

…

“What do you mean I can’t be in it? I wrote it!” Anya protested.

“And you did a great job with that!” Dimitri insisted. “You always do.”

“I know.” Anya nodded. “I understand the lead character. And she has bright red hair and blue eyes and is 5’ 9”. Her name is Ana.”

“Hm.” Dimitri grunted.

“Which is exactly how I look.” 

“You’re not 5’ 9””

“Yes I am! I’m only two inches shorter than you. We measured.”

“That was a bad measuring tape. I’m six feet tall.” Dimitri insisted.

“No you’re not. Look-” Anya pressed herself up against him and moved her hand from the top of her head into his eyes. “See?”

“Ow-I have a three inch forehead. I’m six feet tall.”

“Here - you can be six feet tall if I can play Ana.”

“You win. I’m 5’ 11”.” Dimitri said, gathering up the script copies.

Anya groaned. “Why are you being such a butthead?”

“A  _ butthead _ ?” Dimitri wheeled around and grabbed his chest. “Anya, please, my delicate disposition. You wound me.”

“I should’ve sent you into Siberia when I had a chance.”

“But you didn’t!” Dimitri gleefully retorted.

“But seriously, Dima, why won’t you let me on the stage?”

Since their settlement in southern France, Anya and Dimitri rented out and fixed up an old theater. In the three years since their arrival it has geared up a small but loyal following - after all, there weren’t that many newcomers around here, and not that many people to begin with. Every three months or so, Dimitri and Anya would rotate out the show. Anya prefered the imaginative writing, though Dimitri helped with the story structure, and Dimitri prefered the casting, set design, and directing, though Anya helped. Sometimes they had a brand new story, sometimes they adapted an old one. 

Dimitri brushed off her question again.

“You know I’m only asking to be polite.” Anya insisted. “I could just get up on stage.”

“Toss the other actress out, huh?” 

“On her ass!”

“No you wouldn’t.”

“No, I wouldn’t.”

“Anya,” Dimitri sighed. “I know no one’s said anything, and it can be easy for me to forget too, but you’re not just Anya. You’re still Anastasia, and the Russia you ruled is not that long gone.”

Anya deflated a bit at this. He was right. Still, she retorted, “What’s your point?”

“My point is that if someone recognizes you-”

There had been other moments, quick flashes, where someone in a market had looked at her for a second two long, or someone had balked a bit before speaking to her, where Anya and Dimitri swore that it was all over. After all, Anya’s grandmother had plastered posters with her sketched likeness - aged up, as the years went on - all over Europe. While the sketches were of course not perfect representations, they were enough to give someone pause, sometimes.

“They haven’t yet!” Anya insisted. 

“But how much do you really want to risk it?”

“We’re in southern France, Dima.” Anya said. “We’re not using my name, and there’s plenty of gangly red-haired girls out there.”

“Not with Romanov eyes.” Dimitri muttered. 

“I think you’re going soft, Dima, where’s your taste for danger?”

Dimitri looped his arms around her waist. “I don’t have a taste to put  _ you _ in danger.”

“Then what was that thing we did, getting to France in the first place?”

“A cruel twist of fate.” Dimitri gave a half smile. “I just wanted a nice train ride, you’re the one who had a crazy Russian after you.”

“I still have one.” Anya laughed pushing up to her tiptoes to kiss him. 

“Hey!” Dimitri objected, pulling away.

“Oh don’t tell me you just got it, con man.”

“Hey, I’m off my game!”

“You’re telling me!”

…

Things were bad. Very, very bad. Gleb wished he could ask someone for better words to describe how bad things were, but most of the educated elite had been forced out of the country or underground, so he was sorta outta luck on that.

But things had been bad since the revolution, which made this new sort of Bad so especially concerning. Already people were used to packing themselves into tight homes, or stretching sparse food, that was not the issue.

When the revolution started, people were hopeful that this suffering would be short, yes, but they more hoped that it’d be worth it. That if they held tight for a few years everything would sort itself out and they would get the worker’s paradise they were promised. Instead, things just got Bad. And now people were losing hope. 

It made Gleb sick in his stomach, sick in his soul, to see his country falling to pieces like this. After the deaths of the Romanovs, everyone was gleefully anticipating the meaning and the new chapter that was open. 

Gleb stood and walked to the window. The chapter wasn’t fully open, there was still one last piece he had let go free. He thought he was doing the right thing - being his own man, instead of his father. He thought he understood the magnitude of his decision, and he thought he had repaid the debt of karma taken when the nation allowed all those other children to die.

Perhaps, he hadn’t made the right choice after all. 

…

Dimitri had been smooth with  _ every _ other girl. He knew how to tell when a girl was interested, he knew what to say and when to say it, and he knew that everything he did was only temporary because as soon as that spark started to fade closer to genuine affection, he was gone. It was an easy pattern for him to fall into, as a boy who had never really been loved before. 

But things were different now, and he was watching the ultimate love of his life move people around on stage, smiling as she demonstrated different movements as she had envisioned them. The show was almost fully cast now - they were missing a few background people, a jeweler, and Ana.

“No, here, when you talk I want you to move your arms like this - you’re very expressive, very excited -”

He loved watching her, and being with her, but he always felt like he didn’t know what to say. Sure, she was easy to talk to and joke with, but whenever he tried to be sweet or loving or genuine in any way, he felt like it didn’t come across just right. When he said ‘I love you’, she would smile and say it back, and often kiss him, but it came across like ‘I love you’. He needed it to come across that he loved her more than he had ever loved anyone, more than he loved himself. 

He needed it to come across that he had spent his youth with and around other people, always assuming that he couldn’t love others the way that they were able to. He had assumed there was something wrong with him, that he couldn’t spend more than three weeks with the same person in his arms, and that once a girl had kissed his forehead with so much tenderness that he had left town the next morning.

He needed her to know that ‘I love you’ meant a lot to him, and that he had never said it to anyone else, never even wanted to.

“Hey, Anya!” Dimitri called, putting the casting lists down. 

“Yea?” she hollered back, not turning around. 

“Can you come here?”

“Why, are your legs broken?”

“Yeah, both of them. Just now. Really tragic, actually.” 

Anya smiled at the person she was talking to and flounced over to Dimitri. “What is it, my incredibly impatient love? MIIL for short?”

“Do you ever stop talking?”

“Yes, but only when I’m screaming - aaaAHH!!-”

“Oh my God!” Dimitri laughed, reaching out to cover her mouth, but Anya fell back laughing. “Anya, will you-”

“What is it, what is it?” she asked, rolling forward and putting her elbows on her knees.

“I think you should be in the show.”

“Really?” Anya said excitedly. 

“Yeah, if anyone’s gonna be a good Ana, it would probably be  you. Anya. That wasn’t coincidental, I’m sure.”

“Oh, I’m trying for subtlety, y’know.” she said, but slid off the stage and threw her arms around his neck. She kissed his cheek and climbed back up, yelling out at the cast. “Meet the new Ana, fuckers!”

…

Gleb looked at the carpetbag sitting on his simple cot. He knew exactly where the last remaining Romanov was, and he knew what it would mean for the country to once again have an enemy who wasn’t themselves. It wasn’t fair to her - it hadn’t been fair to any of them. The children, especially. But it also wasn’t fair that the entire country waned and folded under its own hopelessness. If he could save another child at her expense, wouldn’t it be worth it? Was that not how debts were paid?

He didn’t give himself much time to think - he didn’t want to think too much, anyway. He slid several changes of clothes and some food into the bag, pulling the tab shut. It was easy for him to get temporary papers - he was a general afterall. He had all the information. He was the only one who could find her, if anyone could.

He remembered how scared she looked when they had first met, but he tried his best to block that out.

...

The night was young and beautiful, sun setting in brilliant pinks and purples and oranges. Anya loved this hour, especially when they reached the part of their daily walk that went through a wide-open park, full of flowered trees.

“What made you change your mind?” Anya asked when they were walking home, play fully cast. 

“I realized I was being stupid. We’re taking as many precautions as we can, and it’s been three whole years since we got here. Nothing has happened, I don’t see why this would be too much. Everyone knows us now.”

“True, true.”

“Also I just can’t seem to deny you anything you want.” Dimitri smiled down at her. 

Anya smiled at this, and Dimitri squeezed her hand. 

“So,” he continued. “I was hoping you’d want this, too.”

“What do you-” Anya turned to face Dimitri as he sunk down to one knee and stuck his hand in his pocket, pulling out a thin wedding band. “Anya...will you marry me?”

For once in her life, Anya genuinely had nothing to say. 

“I’m sorry it’s not much. I know we’re mostly living off your grandmother’s money. But this...this was something I wanted to buy you myself.”

Anya reached down, hand shaking, and took the ring out of Dimitri’s hand. It was pretty; a shiny gold with a small diamond at the center. Still holding it between two fingers, she dropped down and wrapped her arms around Dimitri’s neck. “Oh, Dima!” she said, squeezing him. “Yes, of course, of course!” 

“Here, put the ring on!” Dimitri laughed, his heart swelling so big it filled up his entire chest. “Don’t lose that, do you know how many plays we had to put on to afford that?” 

Anya laughed happily, sliding on the ring and admiring it, the two of them still draped over each other on the ground. 

Anya rolled her head into the side of Dimitri’s neck, smiling still. 

“Anya, honey.” Dimitri said softly, looking down at her. “I love you... **_so_ ** much.” 

“Oh, Dima.” Anya cooed, reaching her ringed hand up to cup his jaw and kiss him.

And for the first time since their journey together began, Dimitri really felt like she  **knew** how much she meant to him. 


	2. Rehersal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the crazy long delay in chapter two. I never abandoned the story properly, but I definitely got overwhelmed by life. But alas we're back! Please leave reviews and any theories or thoughts below :)

“Morning, all!” Anya waved cheerfully at the new cast, and gestured to her left. “This is my ex-boyfriend, Dimitri.”

“Please stop calling me that.” Dimitri turned back to the cast. “I’m her fiance.” 

“Regardless!” Anya said without missing a beat. “We’re so happy to have you all cast, and we’ll get going on the show. We like to do a pretty quick turnaround here, as many of you are aware, so we’re hoping to get the first show going in about two weeks.”

The crowd murmured, but some of them knew the ropes already and were used to the turn around. Others were used to the challenge. 

“And don’t worry - I’ll be feeling your pain too.” Anya said. “I will be making my debut as Ana for this play!” 

A few people clapped, which she didn’t expect, but she smiled nevertheless. 

“Who is playing Daniel, again?” Anya asked, scanning the small group.

“That’s I, madame.” A dark-haired man smiled at her. 

“Yes, Victor, of course!” Anya said excitedly. “So nice to meet you, since you’re the love of my life and all.”

Dimitri snorted. “Okay, here are your scripts.” he began passing them out. “We’re going to do a cold read, from the top. That means Anya, Victor - you’re up!”

Anya and Victor moved to the center of the stage while everyone else fanned back to watch and begin skimming their own scripts. 

“Okay Anya - no, I’m gonna start calling you all by characters now. Ana-”

“Big difference!” One of the women called out, and everyone laughed. 

“Yeah it’s a wonder where my fiance gets this much creativity from.” Dimitri smirked. He even liked just saying the word.  _ Fiance _ . “Ana, Daniel. Let’s start from the top.”

“Alright I’m out by a river.” Anya nodded. “A big rushing river. And I’m debating if I’m going to throw myself into it.” 

_ Victor positioned himself behind Anya. “You shouldn’t be here.” _

_ “I know.” Ana said.   _

_ Daniel placed a hand on her lower back. She jumped, not expecting this touch. “I know what you’re thinking.” _

_ “How could you possibly know what I’m thinking?” _

_ “I see it in your eyes. I know you better than anyone, Ana. Always have.”  _

_ Ana laughed without humor. “But that doesn't matter, does it? If I let you take me back then I’ll be carried upstairs and dressed and primped, and led out to the altar. I’ll be married.”  _

_ Daniel paused, so much he wanted to say. He reached out his hand and cupped her cheek. “That’s the way it has to be. He’s a good man.”  _

_ “He’s not who I want.”  _

_ “But he’s who was arranged. Sometimes, we don’t always get what we want.” He extended an arm to Ana. “Come. Let’s go home. You don’t have to sort everything out now.”  _

_ Ana took his arm, and looked up into his eyes. She paused, and bit her lip. “Regardless,” she said, softly but firmly. “I think I already have.”  _

“Good! Good. Good start.” Dimitri nodded. “Okay then Victor you’ll walk her offstage, and we’ll open with the scene with the parents - Boris! Come up front!”

…

Gleb arrived in Paris first, and even the sight of it overwhelmed him. People looked so different, walked so differently, it was like he had been transplanted in a whole new world. Perhaps he had been. He only ever felt comfortable in Russia; he could only ever be himself in Russia. Paris was light where Russia was stone - and he could have no tangible hold on light. 

Besides, he had only been to Paris once before. He should’ve just killed Anastasia then, he knew that. The thought had danced around in his head not days after he had returned from France. In the moment though he was just so sure he was doing what was right. He was so sure he didn’t have to be the monster his life had tried to shape him to be. 

But he got back to Russia, feeling light. He retreated to his safe home and his steady job, and woke early to take a walk the next morning. And there it was. The depression of the revolution - hungry children out in the streets, bleak faces of mothers who could not feed their families, depressed workers clocking in and out of factories, knowing they should feel grateful for having something, but holding too much resentment and tragedy to possibly get close to that emotion. 

Dissenters were eliminated at one point, but if that policy were to continue to country would be barren from all life. Gleb knew he was lucky for what he had, but his advantages were never starker than when looking into the eyes of the people on the streets. 

This revolution could still work. Gleb believed that more than anything else. But for it to work, they needed assurance, and they needed a cause. The people had been depressed, disillusioned, but at one point they had believed. And if he had completed his mission, maybe they still would. 

If he had hauled Anastasia back to Leningrad, placed her up on the scaffold and showed the people the weakness and fallibility of the royals they almost missed, maybe they would understand. Maybe they would believe again. If he wasn’t such a coward, then everything could’ve worked itself through. 

He couldn’t go back in time, he couldn’t change his decision. But he could remedy it now. Anastasia was almost definitely still in France - it would behoove her to keep a low profile and her only family in the world was ostentatiously still in Paris. After all that she went through to find her only remaining family, and after all she’d lost, she wouldn’t go too far. Whether she was still in Paris was up in the air. 

But he had to start somewhere, and that somewhere was the home of the Dowager Countess.

…

_ “If all is well, my lady, I will see myself downstairs.” Daniel nodded.  _

_ “No! Wait!” Ana bit her lip and spun around.  _

_ “Yes?” _

_ “Run away with me.”  _

_ “W-wha-- you can’t be serious.” _

_ “I am. But that’s not what’s important. All that matters is if you want me to be serious.” Ana stepped very close and surveyed him from bottom to top, looking in his eyes. “Do you want to do this?” _

_ “We’ll never even make it off the property-” _

_ “Do you want to?” _

_ “Your fiance is already waiting at the church-” _

_ “Do you want to?” _

_ “I-” _

_ They stared into each other’s eyes, each afraid, each knowing that the next sentence would decide their fates with each other.  _

_ “I want you.” Daniel said, taking her hand. “Let’s run.” _

“Great!” Dimitri waved his hands to cut. “This is exactly what I was picturing.” he put his hands on his hips and smiled. “Take ten, everyone.”

Everyone dispersed and Dimitri walked up to Anya. “Look at you go!” he said proudly, putting his hands on her waist. 

“Is it good?” Anya asked, bouncing a little. 

“It’s great. You’re really great. Dramatic. As usual.” 

Anya laughed. “It’s easy, hardly acting.” she kissed his cheek. “I just pretend it’s you.” 

“No that is acting.” Dimitri insisted. “If there was going to be any believability that that was me, I would’ve said yes the first time you asked.”

…

“What brings you to town?” A cheerful waitress asked, pouring Gleb a coffee. He sat in a cafe, facing the street. He almost didn’t hear her at all. 

“Oh! Uh-” he thought quickly. “I’ve heard that the Princess Anastasia is here. My father, he was born in Russia, and he told me that she survived. I’ve been fascinated by the story since, though I’ve never seen her.” 

“Oh, do you not live in Russia anymore?”

“No. I live in Romania.” Gleb said. He figured she wouldn’t be able to tell. He was right. 

“Oh, good! I’ve heard things are terrible over there.” the waitress said, picking up the pot. “She is alive! As I’m sure you’ve heard, if you’re interested enough in the story to come all this way. She was presented to the public very briefly, but she ended up not staying with her grandmother.” the waitress bit her lip. “I’m not really sure where she went. Somewhere in France, I know that.”

Gleb nodded, the gears in his head still turning. He had to make his way to her home. Surely the servants would know where Anya was, if a simple waitress knew so much?

... 

Anya burst into the theater, holding a box of costumes in her arms.

“Here, allow me.” Victor said, taking the box from her arms.

“Oh!” Anya exclaimed. “Victor, I didn’t expect to see you - anyone, really - here this early. But, oh, uh, thank you!”

“Where would you like it, Anya?”

“Just on the stage, please.” Anya paused. “Why are you here so early, though? Rehearsal doesn’t start for two hours.”

“It’s true that group rehearsal does not. But this is my first play, and I’d like some time to soak it all up by myself.” Victor smiled brilliantly at her.

“That’s fair. I’ll just be setting up.” Anya nodded. 

“Oh, must you right away?” Victor asked. “I will help you set up, of course, and two sets of hands should cut the work in half, yes? Please, let’s take some time to talk. I’d love to get to know my Ana.” 

Anya smiled and sat down on the edge of the stage, motioning for him to join her.

“When did you arrive in Roussillon?” he asked, sliding up next to her. “I don’t think I’ve seen you before all this” he motioned his hand around at the stage. 

“A couple years ago.” Anya said. 

“Incredible. This is not a big enough town for me to have not seen you.” he laughed. 

“Maybe you have and you just didn’t remember.” Anya said, leaning back. 

“Oh, I would’ve remembered you.” Victor assured her. 

“When did you move here?”

“I didn’t.” Victor laughed. “I was born here. I’ll likely go to Paris for university soon, but I wasn’t in any rush to get there.” 

Anya nodded. 

“Tell me,” Victor breathed.

“Anya!” 

Victor tensed up suddenly, as Dimitri opened the door, holding a box as well. Victor watched him lug it over to the stage and drop it next to Anya.

“Oh, Victor!” Dimitri said, wiping his hands on his pants. “What are you doing here?”

Victor smiled a little. “Just trying to get in early.”

...

“Do we want to call it a day?” Dimitri said, closing his script. Most of the cast was already home, and it was getting late. Only Anya and Victor and the person who played the role of Mother were still working. 

The Mother closed her script and nodded. “Yes, I’m needing to get back to my family.” 

“Alright, see you next rehearsal!” Anya waved, closing her script and hugging it to her stomach. 

“I have to do some work on our books so-” Dimitri began.

“Well I’d really like to work through one of the scenes.” Victor said smoothly. “If Anya would be so inclined, I’d love to take another hour or so to do that.”

“Sure,” Dimitri said, already thinking of how exhausting it would be to do the books an hour later and wake up for the next rehearsal.

“But I’d hate to keep you from your books.” Victor said. “It’s already late and an hour in the night feels much longer.” 

Dimitri laughed at this.

“Perhaps you could go tend to your books, and we could run the scene?” Victor gestured to himself and Anya. 

Dimitri looked over at Anya.

“That’s fine with me!” she smiled. 

“Great, okay.” Dimitri said, putting on his hat. “Anya I’ll have dinner ready when you get home.” 

“Please not stew.”

“It’s stew! Your favorite.” He held his arms out as he walked backwards towards the door. “Sacrifices of theater season, love. You know I’ll cook you nicer things soon.” 

Victor laughed as Dimitri shut the door behind himself. “A woman like you deserves far finer food.” he tucked a lock of Anya’s hair behind her ear. “Something that feeds your soul too.” he looked at her up and down and cleared his throat. “But let’s rehearse.” 

“Yes, okay. Which scene?” Anya asked. 

“Page 35.” Victor said, pulling her back up onto the stage. “We’re in the meadow. We’ve been on the run from your fiance and your family for nearly three days now. I’ve tried time and time again to create the perfect moment to tell you everything that I feel. You know I love you, you know I want you, but you don’t know how much.” 

“Yes, yes.” Anya said, flipping to the page. “I’m starting to doubt you. I thought I knew how you felt, but days have passed and you have yet to say anything concrete, or make plans for the future, or even kiss me.”

“But now, now we change that.” Victor smiled, and cleared his throat. “Let’s begin.” 


	3. Scripted

Gleb snuck onto the property easily - in the passing years of peace the security grew lax. The inhabitants figured that since they’d lasted this long, the rest of life would be lived with ease. He wasn’t sure if he was happy to disturb this illusion, but it was certainly what he was going to do.

They assumed that since the revolution had passed and they had emerged as unscathed as a target could, no one would circle back for them. Well, Gleb knew he couldn’t leave survivors for that long. He climbed through the gardens, moving slowly and staying low, lest someone decide to wise up.

Creeping, he spotted a neglected back door with rubbish discarded nearby. He heard a voice yelling from one side, and the door opened, with a young woman emerging. Gleb moved quickly as soon as the door shut, grabbing her and wrapping his arm around her neck and putting a hand over her mouth.

“If you scream, I will kill you. If you try and move before I let you, I will kill you. Does that make sense? Close your eyes if it does.”

The woman closed her eyes, scrunching them shut as tears rolled.

“Good. Now, I’m going to take my hand off your mouth in a second. Are you able to answer only my questions, without alerting others? Keep your eyes closed if yes.”

The woman kept her eyes closed.

“Good. Now, you can still get out of this in one piece. Keep that in mind when you answer these questions.” Gleb took his hand off her mouth. She was crying, but tried to keep that as quiet as possible. She did not open her mouth, and kept her eyes scrunched shut.

“My first question - does the Princess Anastasia still live here?”

…

 

_“How am I supposed to know?” Ana objected, clamping her hand to her chest. “I’ve been the one driving every step here. I was the one who asked you to run with me, I was the one who kept us together, I was the one turning down my own marriage!”_

_“Ana!” Daniel stepped closer. “I’ve been with you every step of this way. I’ve followed you across the land with no backup plan or remorse. If we get caught, you go back to your family and their support. I will be fired and lose everything.”_

_“All you do is think of the consequences!” Ana clenched her fists. “If you hate this so much, why don’t you just go home?”_

_“And what? Leave you out here? Alone?”_

_“I can fend for myself!”_

_“I’m not going to do that!”_

_“Why not? I’m a strong person, I can take care of myself!”_

_Daniel steeled himself, grabbing Ana by her hips and pulling her up against him. “Because I love you!”_

_He kissed her fiercely, sliding his hands up her body to cup her face. Ana melted into him for just a second, closing her eyes as he moved to kiss her cheek, her jaw, her neck-_

“Oh!” Anya stepped back suddenly, pushing Victor off her.

She waited for Victor to say something, to apologize for going too far, but he stood there, looking at her.

“Are you alright?” Victor asked, looking genuinely confused as to her reaction. “There’s more of the scene.”

Anya touched her lips. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”

Victor stepped closer to her. “Are you ready to continue-”

“No!” Anya said, with a little more vigor than was needed. “I’m getting tired. I think that’s enough for one night, at least.”

Victor smiled a little at her. “As you wish, then.” He laughed a little as Anya scrambled to grab her things and leave the theater.

...

Over stew, Anya ruminated on whether or not she should tell Dimitri what had happened at rehearsal.

“Are you alright?” Dimitri eventually asked. “You’re pretty quiet.”

“Oh, yeah.” Anya said. “I just,” she clenched  her fist. “really love stew. Focusing on that.”

Dimitri laughed. But he noticed that Anya was not just dozing or daydreaming. “C’mon, you can tell me. I know you don’t have that strong of a passion or hatred for stew.”

“That is true.” Anya conceded.

“You can tell me anything, you know.”

Anya bit her lip. There wasn’t anything really to tell him. Victor had kissed her, but that was the role as she wrote it. She knew it was coming. It just felt like...too much. But how could she tell Dimitri that?

“What if...what if I rewrote some of the play?”

Dimitri furrowed his brow. “But we’ve already started rehearsing. I think it’s a great play, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I still like the idea, but I might want to rework the relationship between Ana and Daniel.”

Dimitri felt his heart drop into his stomach. He knew those characters were self-inserts for him and Anya, and now she wanted to change their relationship? What had happened? He calmed himself down quickly. He was probably just overthinking this, he did that sometimes.

“Okay, what did you want to change?”

“Well, what if instead of a romance they were just really good friends?”

“Anya, you wrote it as a romance. And why would Daniel care if Ana was getting married if he was just a really good friend?”

“Well I still have to work on it.” Anya said quickly.

“Well, why do you want to change it at all?”

“I just don’t think that it feels like a relationship.” Anya said, still not looking at Dimitri, which made him feel worse.

“Why don’t you just leave it how it is, and write a different relationship for the next play? We’re going onstage very soon, that’s a pretty major change.”

Anya bit her lip. “I suppose”, she sighed. She didn’t know how to press the issue further, so she just didn’t.

...

Dimitri didn’t get too much sleep that night, focusing on what Anya had said - and what she hadn’t. Anya, for all her spitfire, was still a very kind person at heart. She wouldn’t want to hurt him, even if she didn’t love him anymore. And, yes he knew that she never said anything that meant he wasn’t being a good fiance, and yes she had agreed to marry him, and it was all very possible he was just being insecure but that was the issue! He was insecure. No matter how much time was between them and imperial Russia, the simple truth remained: princesses don’t marry kitchen boys. To whatever degree, she would always be a princess. And he would always be a kitchen boy.

He pulled himself out of bed and went downstairs to where he belongs. At the very least, he could fix them breakfast. As he pulled out flour and eggs, he wondered why on earth Anya gave up Parisian chefs and a fine estate to have pancakes in the south of France with him. She had it all, she had a chance to get it back, and she turned it down.

Anya was adventurous and impulsive, and he worried that, somehow, he may’ve just been another impulse. What if she grew tired of him once he ran out of adventures for her?

“Dima?” Anya stepped into the kitchen, rubbing her eyes.

“Oh, sorry, did I wake you?”

“Yes.” Anya moaned, putting her face down on the counter.

Dimitri laughed, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her back up to a standing position. “I’m going to need that space to make your breakfast.”

“You can fight me for it.” Anya yawned.

“You can go lay down again, I’ll wake you when it’s done.”

“No, I’m up, I’m up.” Anya insisted, sitting down and leaning against the cabinet.

“Well, who am I to argue with that?” Dimitri snorted.  

“What’re we having?”

“Pancakes!”

“Oh I love pancakes.” Anya slid down a little bit, smiling.

“They’re all for me. You get one egg, raw.”

“All that protein will make me strong, and then I will kick your ass.” Anya said, standing up.

“Yeah? I’d like to see you try!” Dimitri poured the batter into the pan and then pulled Anya in for a kiss. She threw her arms around his neck and pulled him closer to her.

She broke the kiss, looking up at him. “The pancakes are burning.”

“I love you.” Dimitri breathed. “But you still have to eat the burnt ones.”

Anya laughed and swatted him. And the morning spun off into a relaxing day.

...

“Good evening, everyone!” Anya called out, waving with one hand and holding Dimitri’s hand with the other.

The group called out salutations and everyone settled in.

“Alright, I know this is a bit of a later rehearsal, so we’ll try to have you all out by dinner.” Dimitri said. “So, we must get a move on! Let’s open on Act II.” he clapped a couple times and people moved onto the stage. The act opened on the parents discussing the departure of their eldest daughter, and cut to the scene Victor and Anya had rehearsed, where they finally confess the fulness of their feelings for each other.

Anya faced Victor and began to move through their lines, focusing on what was written as opposed to what had happened last night. Everyone was here now, he wouldn’t try anything, it was a mistake, besides. She had overreacted. That was all. Everything was fine.

_“All you do is think of the consequences!” Ana clenched her fists. “If you hate this so much, why don’t you just go home?”_

_“And what? Leave you out here? Alone?”_

_“I can fend for myself!”_

_“I’m not going to do that!”_

_“Why not? I’m a strong person, I can take care of myself!”_

_Daniel steeled himself, grabbing Ana by her hips and pulling her up against him. “Because I love you!”_

Anya thought that Victor would tone it down this time; that he had picked up on the discomfort she felt or processed the impropriety of what he had done. He did not. He wrapped  his arms around her and pulled her as tight as he could. His tongue forced her mouth open and Anya, in her shock stood there before pushing herself off of Victor and staggering back.

“Oh, _fuck_ you!” Dimitri yelled, and the next thing Anya heard was the cracking of Dimitri’s fist colliding with Victor’s jaw.

“Dimitri!” Anya yelled.

Victor staggered back and hit the ground, splaying out and staying down.

“You hurt him!” Anya wheeled around. “Why did you do this?”

Dimitir looked at Anya, incredulous. “ _Why_?!? Anya he-”

“It was in the script _she_ wrote.” Victor spat, before grabbing and rubbing his jaw.

Dimitri looked down at the script

_[DANIEL kisses ANA softly, though it is clear that he’s been waiting to do this for a while.]_

“Softly!” Dimitri insisted, still very much wanting to kick Victor while he was down.

“Semantics, Dimitri!” Anya offered Victor her hand, pulling him up. She put a hand tenderly to his jaw to evaluate the damage. She turned out to the group. “Everyone go home! We’ll figure this all out tomorrow!”

The crowd dissipated slowly as Anya inspected Victor and Dimitri stood afar, holding his injured hand.

“I don’t think you have any serious damage. No broken bones, no missing teeth.” Anya said softly. “You better go home and put some ice on that.”

“Thank you.” Victor said softly, looking down at her and putting his hand to where she had touched him.

Anya stepped off to grab her wrap.

Victor looked at Dimitri for the first time as he passed him on the way out. He paused just for a second, turning back to say. “You know, that’s not the first time I’ve done that.”, and left.

Dimitri jumped him.

**Author's Note:**

> Send reviews if you please! but, if you're so inclined especially send theories of what's going to happen those are literally my fav things to read xoxo


End file.
